Forever Friday (10 page)

“Take … my hats … young man,” the woman demanded, quite out of breath. “They’re expensive … so don’t drop them.”

“Yes ma’am,” Gabe replied, holding the boxes high enough to not interfere with any of the seated passengers.

The woman regained her wind and began rummaging through the shopping bag. “I really must find my receipt for those hats,” she announced. “I fear I’ve been overcharged. The clerk said they were each discounted twenty percent. But now that I think about it, the one I
bought to wear tomorrow was full price. Cheating a woman on her Sunday best is as bad as cheating the Good Lord Himself and that clerk should be …”

The streetcar eased forward and Gabe wondered how long he’d be stuck in the aisle, his face full of cardboard, listening to the ravings of a mad woman. “Just my luck,” he muttered. Huck could’ve been standing on the next corner and he’d never know.

It was an older model trolley, swaying and groaning as it picked up speed. Gabe repositioned his feet for better balance and wished he was out on the platform. Even before he began smoking, he preferred to stand at the rear and watch the city slide by. The interesting people, the pleasing cackle of laughter, the humid breeze cooling his face.

Without warning, the streetcar dipped with a metallic scrape, then jolted. There was a sudden girlish yelp. In an instant, Gabe found himself sitting in the aisle with a shapely young woman pressed upon his lap. Instead of cold cardboard, his face was smashed against the nape of her delicate neck, the spring-like scent of her softness …

Overwhelming.

Familiar.

Captivating.

He placed his hands around her dainty waist as someone helped her stand. And before she ever turned to look at him, he knew …

He’d finally found his Forever Girl.

May 1926

Houston, Texas

After picking up hats and reassuring the woman that only her boxes had been crushed, Huck and Gabe quickly exited the streetcar. Gabe offered his arm as they stepped up to the curb.

“I thought you’d be …”

“I hoped you were …”

They both spoke at the same time, then laughed, pausing to meet each other’s gaze.

“Working,” Huck continued. “I thought you’d be working.” She realized she was no longer holding her purse over the stains, but still
grasped Gabe’s arm, feeling a muscled tenderness she’d never noticed with any other man. She held on a full second longer before releasing.

“I have weekends off,” Gabe replied.

“That’s too bad.”

“It is?”

“Because I was planning to stop by Cecil’s and pick up some anchovies.”

“You were?”

“Unless the oysters ate them.”

They both laughed again.

Another streetcar stopped to empty passengers. “Let’s walk,” Gabe said. “This corner’s getting a little crowded.”

Huck held her purse over the stains as they strolled the busy sidewalk, with Gabe positioning himself closer to the street. Including the day they’d met, she’d known this man for mere moments, yet was comfortable walking next to him. She guessed he was over six feet tall, with long solid legs like the Huckabee men, but he matched her abbreviated stride with an unhurried ease. Clark was several inches shorter than Gabe and had no patience when it came to traveling by foot, almost dragging her along.

She glanced at Gabe. “I thought you’d be working and you hoped I was …?”

“Running errands.” He grinned. “Anything else on your schedule besides anchovies?”

“I had big plans until a child on the streetcar decided to become a fashion designer.” She peeked at the stains and sighed. “By the time I get home and remove the chocolate, my plans will be ruined.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Wonderful?” Huck stopped in her tracks. “Wouldn’t
lousy
be a much better adjective?”

“Not as good as
marvelous
.” Gabe turned and faced her, his grin lopsided and lovable. “I think it’s marvelous we’re getting to spend this beautiful day together, that is, if you want to.”

“Then, you know about today? The tradition?”

“Y-yes I believe so,” Gabe stuttered. “It was a popular topic at breakfast, although a bit controversial.”

“Controversial? Why?” Huck knew people who were indifferent, but never dreamed anyone would have a problem with May Day.

Gabe laughed. “Perhaps
debatable
is a better word choice. Whatever the case, my friend Charlie was so excited, he could hardly eat.”

Huck giggled. “I look forward to it every year.”

“You do?” The grin returned, more inquisitive than crooked. “Do you take part in the tradition or just prefer to watch?”

“I take part, naturally.” She frowned. “So who wants to debate?”

“Some bishop,” Gabe said with a shrug, “but he probably argues about everything. Let’s keep walking.”

They passed a street repair crew, the roar of heavy trucks competing with the ringing thud of pickaxes making it impossible to talk. A dizzying excitement propelled Huck’s every step. Spending time with one man while engaged to another was the controversial issue, not May Day. But even the dour bishop would have to agree that engagement wasn’t bound by marriage vows. A woman’s prerogative was to change her mind about whomever, whenever she wished—which was both wonderful and marvelous. So for the moment, she’d consider taking Gabe up on his offer to spend the day together. Especially after the hair-cutting episode with Clark.

When they paused for traffic at the next corner, the noise faded and Huck made up her mind. She moved the purse away from the chocolate stains, revealing them. “I couldn’t possibly wear this dress all day. And if it’s ruined, I’ll have to buy a new one.”

“Brilliant idea,” Gabe said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Foley Brothers isn’t far and I was headed there anyway to buy a new hat. You could select another dress, then ask the store to deliver the chocolate one to Burkhart’s Laundry. They might be able to save it.”

Huck felt her cheeks redden. She hadn’t meant buying another dress
today
. “Why, Mr. Alexander … I’ve never purchased a dress with a man along.”

Gabe laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ll be in different departments.” Then he leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Miss Huckabee, you might consider calling me Gabe since …” He halted in midsentence, his eyes drawing her closer.

“Yes?”

“Since we’re buying clothes in the same store, someone might mistake us as married.”

“Oh dear,” Huck said, then swallowed. “That would be a mistake.”

“It would?”

“Wouldn’t it? Unless …” Her words drifted into an infinite number of unspoken thoughts, each held captive by his sea-sky gaze.

“You were saying?”

“Unless … you call me Huck.”

They both smiled. Huck purposely slid her arm through Gabe’s and they continued walking. Clark was getting exactly what he deserved.

“Look at it this way, Huck. Being a bystander may not be exactly what you’d planned, but we’ll be the best dressed couple on Galveston Island.”

“A bystander on Galveston Island?”

“Tradition, remember? Splash Day? The International Pageant of Pulchritude?”

She gave his arm a squeeze and laughed. “Why, Gabe, it appears you’ve tricked me into traveling to Galveston and attending some kind of a beauty pageant.”

“Actually it’s a bathing beauty contest, but we don’t have to go. There are all sorts of other activities there, and dances that go on until midnight.”

“Not go see the latest swimwear on an island my mother refers to as a den of wickedness?” She gave his arm a playful pat. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And dancing until midnight would be such a daring way to celebrate May Day. Most men don’t even know the day exists.”

Gabe cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed to admit you’re right, but we’re learning.”

It was only a ten-minute walk to Foley Brothers department store. They had a delightful visit along the way, asking each other the requisite vanilla job and family questions one might inquire about at a dinner party. Huck told how she was an English teacher at Sidney Lanier, lived in a boardinghouse for career-minded women, and grew up in Huntsville. Gabe asked if she’d attended Huntsville’s major institution. When she answered yes, she knew he was teasing because he acted shocked.

“I didn’t realize the penitentiary allowed female inmates,” he added.

She patted his arm again, more spirited than before, and chattered
about her father being a farmer and prison guard. How her parents’ land was adjacent to Sam Houston’s historic home and how she and a twin brother were the youngest of thirteen children.

Inside Foley Brothers, Gabe escorted Huck to the entrance of the women’s department. A mannequin advertised a modern waistless dress, the sleek material dyed in a dramatic color combination of pure pastels.

“What about this one?” Gabe asked, directing her toward the mannequin.

“Look, it’s a shift dress.” Huck giggled. “I love the new styles.” She released his arm to stroke the fabric. “And the beautiful colors. A perfect match for my purse and shoes.”

“May I help you?” An eager salesgirl appeared wearing a summer business suit and a broad smile.

“She’d like to try on this shift dress,” Gabe said casually. “In my opinion, it would be a perfect match for her purse and shoes.”

Before Huck could reply, the salesgirl turned to her and asked, “Does your husband have any single brothers?”

“Pardon me?”

The salesgirl laughed, then continued. “I don’t mean to pry, but most men wouldn’t come near the women’s department, much less know about style and color.”

“No brothers,” Huck said, shooting Gabe a lighthearted glare. “Thankfully, he was an only child.”

“I need to … um … go find a hat,” Gabe managed.

An hour later, Huck, Gabe, and thirty other passengers were seated aboard the Galveston–Houston Interurban, speeding to Splash Day
and the controversial International Pageant of Pulchritude. Gabe donned a new straw hat, and Huck wore the colorful shift, her soiled dress in the hands of Burkhart’s Laundry. For the most part, she’d left all thoughts of Clark behind as well. But an occasional pang of guilt still invaded what had become a delightful morning.

“That’s Dickinson Bayou,” Gabe said, pointing out the window. “It flows near our ranch. When I was a kid, I built a one-man sailboat. Fished and explored that body of brackish water whenever I had the chance.”

“I didn’t realize I was seated next to a sea captain.” Huck glanced at Gabe’s strong profile. He did seem a little sea-captain-ish, with his immaculate gray suit and easy confidence.

“More like a cowboy/bayou captain,” Gabe replied. “Each year, a few of our cattle would wander off our land along the water’s edge and I’d have to find them.” He laughed. “I think my father knew I found sailing more exciting than being stuck in a saddle all day.”

“Sounds intriguing. Herding cattle from a sailboat.”

“They were tame as porch dogs, the way my mother babied them. All I had to do was wave my arms and shout. They’d lumber back home the way they came.”

“I’d love a real sailing adventure,” Huck said after a tiny sigh, then wondered what it would be like as Captain Gabe’s first mate. She giggled softly, suddenly remembering Mister Jack and the term she’d adopted so many years ago: soul mate.

“So the lady wants an ocean adventure?” Gabe scooted closer. “Then one day we’ll sail the seven seas, or at least the shallows of Galveston Bay, in a boat named
Cleopatra
.”

“
Cleopatra
?”

He laughed. “The Egyptians invented sailing. It would only be proper.”

“Aye, aye Captain!” Huck playfully saluted.

“And we’ll drink rum from the bottle and eat hardtack and mutineers will walk the plank.”

“But, Captain … What about pirates?”

“Pirates?” Gabe’s eyes twinkled. “Well, matey, ’twould be the ghost ship of Jean Lafitte, no doubt. Some say he still haunts the bay in search of his lost treasure.”